


Dancing in the Rain

by gray_autumn_sky



Series: Friends With Benefits [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:17:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a bad day, Robin shows Regina the pleasures and joys of the rain.</p><p>Set during the Missing Year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing in the Rain

Robin stands at the end of the hall—standing there and watching, completely transfixed and unable to look away.

Regina is standing at the other end—standing there at the window, watching as the rain point down in sheets. He can see her reflection in the window—he can see the way her arms are loosely folded around herself and he can see the way she jaw is clenched, and he can see how every now and then, for only just a moment, he sees it quiver. In the reflection, he can see that her eyes are sad and distant and though she’s looking out at the falling rain, he doubts she notices it because despite her physical presence in the moment, she’s not actually there.

And he can’t help but wonder just how many times in her life time, she’s stood in that very window, looking out at a world she barely recognized and wishing for something different, something more…

He sighs a little at the thought and feels an uncomfortable stirring in his chest. She doesn’t talk about the years she spent here—not the early years she spent here as a young queen or the years of her reign—but she doesn’t have to speak of them for him to know they were filled with pain. He can see it every time she enters a room, every time her eyes begin to wander and for just a split second something resonates in her eyes, making it all too clear what her life in this castle had been like. Storybrooke had been her salvation. It brought about her escape and her redemption; it gave her a fresh start and second chance—and it had given her her son. Then, all at once, fate had taken it away, casting her back into the lonely world she’d left behind. He feels a pang of guilt because had none of that happened, he’d never have found her—and though he’s not sure what exactly they are to one another, his life is undoubtedly better with her in it and he’s glad that she’s here.

It occurs to him that he should just go on to his room—it’s well past midnight and they’ve all had a long day. Yet, he can’t bring himself to look away and instead of continuing on toward his bedchamber, he tentatively turns down the hall.

“M’lady,” he says in a soft voice with a gentle smile. “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?”

 It takes a minute for his voice to register and she slowly turns her head toward him. She doesn’t look at him—not quite—her eyes still focused intently on the rain. 

 “I can’t sleep,” she murmurs finally, though it’s obvious she’s made no attempt to try.

He shifts awkwardly on his feet. The air around them is stale and muggy, and he’s not quite sure where they stand—though, he never has been. She’s been quite clear on what they aren’t and what they shouldn’t be—and he’d agreed to that. And he is a man of his word. Yet somehow, somewhere along the way—somewhere between languid kisses and tangled limbs as they’d laid sated in each other’s arms, laughing together and ignoring the world around them—he’d fallen in love.

He loved her and she didn’t know.

He hadn’t realized it right away—and while the progression of his feelings had been slow and the progression of his realizing them even slower—but once he had realized it, it hit him like a ton of bricks, and suddenly, all he could think of was her and how he could never tell her because if he did, he’d surely lose her.

“It’s well after midnight…” 

“I know,” she says, finally looking at him. “And it’s officially my son’s birthday.”

His breath catches in his chest and he suddenly understands—and he doesn’t know what to say.

So much of their relationship has been caught up in the unsaid, kisses and touches and sex have all too often replaced words—and while he wasn’t complaining about that, it was easy way to avoid and easy way to distract. He was aware that, in some ways, she was using him; but she wasn’t doing it with any sort of malice or ill intent, she was doing it to keep herself from the loneliness that could so easily consume her—and he was glad to allow it.

“He turns twelve today,” she adds, looking back to the window and again looking out past the rain. “It rained on his fourth birthday.”

“Did it?”

She nods, still looking out into the rain as a faint smile forms on her lips. “I thought he’d be upset because we’d planned on going to the park that afternoon to build sand castles and play on the swings, but he was so happy that it was raining.” She laughs a little as her features soften. “He ran outside barefoot and spent an hour just…running and twirling around on the grass, hopping in puddles and just staring up at the sky. And when he came in and I wrapped him up in a towel and dried him off, he told me that it was his best birthday—that the rain was his favorite present because it was a complete surprise.”

“That’s adorable,” he murmurs. “Kids find joy in the simplest of things.”

“They do,” she agrees, still looking out at the rain. “And… then… at some point, they lose it. I could never really figure out what it was about the rain that made him so happy that day, but… it was certainly fun to watch while it lasted.”

Robin’s eyes narrow a little and again, he finds himself wondering what she’s thinking. He doesn’t ask because he knows that if she wanted him to know, she’d tell him; but he can’t help but wonder if she’s thinking of something else—another memory of a birthday or perhaps the birthday she won’t be there to celebrate. And nonetheless, he finds himself thinking of how beautiful she looks as she stands there and stares out the window. And how sad she looks…

Slowly, smile curls onto his lips and he finds himself reaching for her hand. She flinches a little at the contact as he pulls her back into the present moment, and she looks down at his hand around hers before looking back at him with questioning eyes.

“Come with me,” he says, stepping back and giving her hand a little tug.

“I’m not really in the…”

“Not that,” he cuts in, once more giving her hand a little tug. “You’ll see.”

She offers him an exasperated little sigh but nonetheless lets him pull her down the hall, and when he looks back over his shoulder there’s the slightly bit of a smile shining in her eyes.

_____

Robin leads her through the castle—leading her down long corridors and staircases, wordlessly tugging her along until they reach the front entrance. She blinks at him—a mix of surprise and confusion, not really sure what he’s thinking or what she should expect—and she shakes her head as he shoves open the door, still not quite understanding.

A gust of sticky hot air pushes in as the door swings open and just beyond them, the rain is pouring down in thick sheets. She watches him curiously, watching the way he watches her—and for an all too brief moment, she sees a flicker of something in his eyes. But she blinks and then it’s gone and he gives her hand a tight squeeze, before releasing it and backing out into the rain.  

And before she realizes it, she’s laughing—watching as he spreads out his arms and looks up into the rain. He’s soaked in seconds and the rain pours over him, beating down his face and wetting his hair and clothes. She can’t help the smile that tugs up at the corners of her mouth as she watches the thin fabric of his white shirt become translucent, clinging to his chest. She tips her head in admiration, her eyes lingering over him, watching the way the fabric sticks to his body, showing off the well-defined curves and contours she’s come to know so well—and a moment later, her cheeks flush when she realizes that he’s caught her staring.

“Come on,” he calls out to her. “Join me!”

“I don’t think so,” she yells back, laughing as she shakes her head.

“Oh, come on!” He laughs, too, and he extends a hand to her. “You know you want to!”

“Are you suggesting you know what I think?”

“Perhaps,” he teases coyly. “You’ll enjoy it.”

“I highly doubt that,” she says, straightening her stance and squaring her shoulders. “I am, after all, a queen; and I am a little more refined.” Though it’s hard to make out, she can see him rolling his eyes and she feigns annoyance, struggling against herself not to laugh. “I’d hardly…” 

“Oh come on,” he calls out again, this time take a few steps toward her. “It feels so good!”

“I’d beg to differ,” she tells him as her eyebrow arches as he waves her over. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

At that, he rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on, Regina. You haven’t even tried it. How can you know you won’t like it?”

 “I’ve been caught in the rain before,” she counters plainly as annoyance piques in her voice.

“Sure, you were caught in the rain—but have you ever danced in the rain?” She blinks as he takes a few more steps toward her, reaching out and taking both of her hands in his. “Haven’t you ever wondered… what it would be like to just… let go?”

“I’ve ‘let go’ plenty of times,” she tells him with a coy smile. “You should know that.”

Robin rolls his eyes, “Not like that.”

“One sounds… preferable to the other.” 

“Is that so?” He asks as his hands tighten around hers and before she can reply, he tugs her out into the rain. She yells out as the warm droplets pelt down around her, wetting her hair and clothes as Robin spins her out and then pulls her back in, pulling her flush against him. “You said it yourself—you’ve always wondered why Henry enjoyed the rain so much that day. Why don’t you find out?” 

Her smile fades a little as her eyes meet his—and suddenly, she doesn’t know what to say. Her breath hitches in her throat as his features soften and a gentle little smile edges onto his lips.

“I know what it’s like to grieve, Regina,” he tells her. “I know what it’s like to get caught up in all the memories you’ll never make, to get so caught up in what you lost that you forget what you had.”

She watches and he looks up into the falling rain, watching as an easy smile forms over his lips—and catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she turns her eyes upward, grimacing as raindrops fall down her cheeks and collect on her eyelashes, drip down her chin and make her hair stick to the back of her neck and to her forehead. She wants to brush it all away, but he’s holding onto her hands, pinning her arms down at her sides—and though she hates to admit it, frustrating her in all the right ways and wearing down her resolve.

“Regina,” he says, smiling as he finally looks back at her. “Come on,” he says, pushing her back at an arm’s length. “Dance with me.”

“You’re delusional,” she tells him as a laugh creeps into her voice as she looks up into the rain, letting it cascade. “I am soaking and…” 

“And smiling.”

It’s only then that she realizes it and her cheeks flush a little—part embarrassment, part hating that he knows her so well and part grateful for it. She shakes her head a little and turns her face back up toward the rainy night sky, letting the cool droplets crash down onto her, springing back up and then dissolving into the rest. The droplets are soft yet prickly, soothing yet electrifying and when she her hears her own voice laugh out, she think so of Henry—twirling ‘round and ‘round as the rain cascaded down around him—and then she looks back at Robin and once more she sees that same flick of something.

“Come on,” he says again, this time pulling her up against him, their wet bodies sloshing together as they both laugh out. “Dance with me.”

He pushes her out and then tugs her back in, twirling her around—spinning her until she’s dizzy and the rain makes him a blur to her. And then, just as she feels like she might spin out of control, he pulls her back to him—her chest crashing into his as they laugh together—and for an all too brief moment, that flicker of something she sometimes sees in his eyes, she feels it within her heart and deep down in her soul.

She doesn’t dwell on it—not wanting to let herself realize what it might mean—and she pushes herself away from him, his hand slipping from hers as she starts to twirl. She closes her eyes and inhales the crisp air, tilting her head back and letting them droplets run down her throat to her chest. She can hear Robin laughing and maybe saying something—likely something smugly sanctimonious, likely telling her that he was right—but she doesn’t pay attention to it; instead, she focuses on a feeling she hasn’t experience in such a long time, a feeling that she thought she’d left behind her, a feeling that was never hers for keeps—a feeling of pure joy.

_____

His hands find her waist as he comes up behind her, breathing her in as she leans back into him, laughing as her dress sloshes against her shirt. “See,” he whispers. “I was right—you just needed to let go a little bit and enjoy it.”

“I suppose,” she says, turning and rolling her eyes as she faces him. “And thank you… for this.”

“Well, I didn’t make it rain…”

She lets out that exasperated sigh that never fails to make him smile, as she pushes her hands against his chest, giving him a light shove away from her. “You’re such a smart ass.”

“But really,” he says, shaking his head and chuckling as she watches her struggle with the skirt of her dress as it sticks to her legs, huffing as she tugs at the soaked fabric. “Even if it doesn’t last, I was glad that for just a few minutes, you could see that the memories won’t always hurt.”

“You… have a way of doing that,” she says, sighing as she rubs her hands over her skirt in frustration. “And… even if I don’t always say it, I do appreciate it.” She shrugs her shoulders as she gives up on the clinging skirt. “You’re a good friend—the best.”

“I admit,” he says with a slight chuckle as he takes a couple of steps in. “I do have my moments.”

He watches as she turns tilts her head back, letting the rain pour down around her; and he watches as the droplets slide from her chin down her throat, losing themselves in her cleavage—something he can’t help but notice as the low cut dress clings to her breasts. He lets his eyes linger for longer than he should—watching as she draws her shoulders back, pushing her chest forward and its then that he notices the way her nipples push at the wet fabric.

He feels a stirring in his pants as he thinks of what it would be like to peel the sopping fabric away from her skin, to pull the dress from her shoulders and let it pool at her feet as heavy raindrops bounce on newly exposed skin. He thinks of pulling her into his arms—skin to skin as the rain came down around them—dipping his face down to her breasts, his hands kneading soft, wet skin as his tongue circled around a hardened nipple as he licked away the raindrops as they touched her. He thinks of his lips sliding down her body—from the valley between her breasts down her stomach—tasting her skin as the rain rutted—and finally the way she breathe out as his tongue flicked against her clit, flattening out as slipped against her folds and her fingers pushed into his wet hair…

Suddenly aware of the tightening in his pants—made more noticeable by the way the wet fabric clung to his body—and he thinks to look away, to district himself with other thoughts, but by the time that that occurs to him, Regina is stepping toward him, wearing grin he knows all too well. And then, it no longer matters… 

“Perhaps I should thank you,” she tells him, pressing her palms to his chest and rubbing her hands down his wet shirt as her eyes move in the opposite direction, slowly coming up to meet his.

She smiles coyly and waves her arms, catching up the cloud of purple smoke. She wastes no time with the details—likely not wanting to peel off sticking layers of fabric—and when the smoke clears, they’re both completely naked. The rain pelts down against his bare shoulders as watches her sink down, rubbing her hands up the back of his thighs. He feel her fingers pushing up the rain the falls too quickly, creating little rivets of water at the back of his legs and between her finger, and it sends a little shiver down his spine. Her fingers apply a little pressure as she draws him in—and he swallows hard, unable to think about much else when he feels her warm breath against his hardening cock.

Her tongue circles the tip a couple of times, just barely touching it—teasing and swirling. Her lips close around it, sucking hard as her tongue continues to circle. Her hands move from the back of his thighs, one folding around his shaft as the other cups his balls, kneading with just the right amount of pressure. He breathes out has her hand begins to pump him, her lips still sucking hard at the head, her tongue still slipping and sliding over the tip. He lets out a low moan as head falls back, bouncing off his face and chest, as his hand finds her hair. His fingers stoke lightly, gently pushing her closer and pushing himself deeper.

Pumping faster with her hand, her lips slide past the head of his cock, slipping slowly down his shaft. She pulls herself back, then slides down again, taking a little more of his each time. Resting her hands at the back of his thighs she pulls herself off of him, and licks the entire length of his erection, once then twice, then back along the other side, before taking him in her mouth completely. Her hand moves back to his shaft, gripping and pumping as she sucks to his climax.

When he’s spent and breathing huskily she pulls back, smiling slyly as she licks her lips.

“Will that suffice?”

He lets out a shaky breath as he swallows hard, his heart racing as he comes down from his high. He manages to nod and she giggles a bit as she get to her feet—and he feels like he should probably return the favor. Reaching for her, he pulls her in—wet bodies pressing together—and his lips quickly settle in the crook of her neck. It’s not long before her hand is between his legs, getting him hard all over again, before he lifts her up and pushes her against the castle wall. Her legs wrap around him as he slips inside of her, rocking her to her own climax.

_____

Regina stands her in bed chamber, in thin summer night dress with the windows open, letting in the thick air and listening to the rain pelt down against the castle walls. She’s in front of the mirror brushing out her long, tangled and wet hair, as smile slowly creeps onto her lips. She remember the way the wet, smooth stone felt against her back as his fingers gripped her thighs and his lips sucked at her nipples.

She smiles as the starts to work on a particularly knotted piece of hair—thinking of how he twirled and laughed, looking so carefree and relaxed, that it had set her at ease and made her smile, even though she didn’t want to.

It amazes her how he can do this—how he can take the most painful of days, the hardest of memories and turns them in to something else. It’s not that he makes her forget or that he helps her to ignore the things that haunt her—but instead, it’s that he helps her to embrace them and reminds her that life will go on. 

Setting down her brush, she sits at the dressing table, running her hands through her hair—smiling as wet strands stick to her fingers. Finally, untangled, she separates out pieces and begins to braid—and once more loses herself in thought… 

Robin had started off as just distraction. He was such an unlikely friend, yet a friend who simply understood her; and though, he didn’t know exactly what she was going through or what she felt, his own experience had dealt him a similar hand and allowed him to relate in ways that no else could. He understood her limits better than anyone she’d ever met—he understood temper, quelling it when necessary and letting her vent when that’s what she needed to do; he understood her fear and how them manifested into sharp wit and the occasional low blow; and he understood when she needed a little bit of support. He was constantly there—sometimes silent, sometimes rationalizing and always listening. He didn’t judge her past or make excuses for it; instead, he took it at face value and left it where it belonged—and for that, she was grateful. Robin gave her a fresh start, a chance to prove that she could do better this time around, that she grief wouldn’t plunge her back into darkness, and that in spite of everything, she was still good.

And despite her never ending wish to just go home—a wish she knew was impossible—he made this new life so much more tolerable—the silver lining in the cloud that perpetually hung over her existence here.

Once more she feels that certain something—a fluttering at her chest and a warming at her core—and she pushes it away, not wanting to dwell on it and certainly not wanting to recognize it. It wasn’t that it was an unpleasant feeling, but she was vaguely aware of what it meant—and it wasn’t something she was willing to acknowledge. She’d felt it before and she suspects that he feels it, too—though, she’ll never know for sure because has no intention of asking because the things she loved never lasted. And she couldn’t lose him…

She pushes the final pin into her hair, holding the braid in a spiral on the back of her head, she gets up and she walks over to the window. She crosses her arms around herself and stares out into the rain—thinking of Robin and thinking of Henry and wishing the impossible wish that one day they could all be together.


End file.
